Finding My Wings
by Tzee
Summary: After a sudden drama in the Great Hall, Draco finds himself not quite himself and Harry is confused in denial. Involves wings and fluffy things! No, not those you perv... I suck at summaries, please read...: Harry/Draco ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY
1. Finding My Wings: Oops!

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

I'm not going to give away any of the story in the warnings, so remember: This chapter is rated for bad language,(swearing people, not my bad grammar), but a scene may be a tad offensive to sensitive viewers(but nothing serious, just an injury). Also, this story involves male/male relationships, so if that's not your thing, look away now!

Okay, on with the show!

Prologue: Oops!

Draco's point of view:

For a whole five seconds I was completely frozen with shock. My brain went offline and I think I forgot to breathe. Then I unfroze, and the entire lost five seconds came streaming into my consciousness in a sensation not unlike being woken by a particularly jarring alarm bell. A single thought rang out louder and more clearly than all of the other noise in my head; Harry Potter had kissed me.

It seemed as though everyone else in the great hall was yet to recover from the shock of the accident. The Ravenclaws still held their air of omniscience in their shock and the Hufflepuffs looked as though their weak little hearts had given up in fright. My own Housemates were agape with horror, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, and the Gryffindors looked just plain murderous.

The looks on Granger and The Weasel's faces took the cake though. Granger's hair looked like it had tripled in size, and there were about ten books at her feet, while her arms clutched at the empty space where they had been. Weasley was similarly horrified; having flushed the deepest shade of red imaginable, with his bulbous eyes widened to such an extent that they pushed his eyebrows into his fringe and out of view.

And then there was Harry. Potter hadn't moved from where he had fallen on top of me, and a rosy flush began creeping up his neck. He looked as though he wanted to say something, and the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips nervously. But before he could say anything, before the hall could break into excited chatter, I screamed.

Harry's point of view:

Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Holy mother-fuck. Great bloody buggering fuck. Of all the stupid, clumsy, idiotic, downright insane things to have happen, I had to kiss Malfoy. Great. I could have been attacked by Death Eaters, sworn at Snape, even spontaneously combusted, but no, it had to be a kiss with _Malfoy_. Well Fuck.

I needed to say something, anything that might lessen the pain of my impending doom. I wet my lips with my tongue. They tingled uncomfortably. Just as I was about to apologize, his eyes rolled back into his head and he screamed.

I got the shock of my life and leapt away from where he was now curled up on the floor. I drew my wand, wary. Several first years scurried from the room.

Draco's scream died as a gurgle in the back of his throat. Despite Hermione and Ron's calls of warning, and despite what all my senses were telling me not to do, I dropped to his side, and tried to rouse him.

"Malfoy?" I touched his shoulder.

His eyes were unfocused and stray tears slid from their corners. I doubted he was conscious, but I tried again anyway.

"Malfoy, can you hear me?" with the hand still on his shoulder I shook him gently.

The tiny breathy moans he had been making stopped suddenly, and beneath my hand his shoulder began to shake slightly. I looked up to find his entire body was shaking. For safety's sake, I let go of him. His shaking grew steadily worse until he gave a piercing shriek, and something bloody erupted from his back. It took me a minute before I noticed that they were wings.

Authors Note: Well? Did you like it??? PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEE review, or, I wont ever post again . So Review and I will love you forever!!!

Makes Sad-Draco eyes…pweez?


	2. Finding My Wings: Mist and Wings

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This is an exciting chapter, guys! There aren't any real warnings for this chapter, although please be aware that this fic has a blanket rating of M. This is also longer than the previos(cuz the previos was a prologue).

And here is my loverly wall of credits!!!

KathleenMcDempsy

2Angels1Mommy

MicroChibiBakaSan(My first reviewer!!!)

Torchwoodfan13

Followthedarke

Katie

I luvz you all!!!!^_^

Without any further ado:

Chaper One: Mist and Wings

DPOV:

I returened to conciousness, a dull throb eminating from where the strange extenstions on my back,(which I had yet to identify), sprouted.

Soft blanketing lay beneath my fngers and there was a pillow under my head.I was in the Hospital wing then. I sat up groggily, and surveyed my surroundings.

I was on a bed in the centre of a curtained-off cubicle. There was a vase of flowers and a box of chocolate frogs on my bedside table, along with a glass filled with what appeared to be water. Suddenly parched, I upended the contents into the flowers, distrustful as always. Death Eaters weren't very fond of blood traitors. With a charm of water from my own wand, I took a drink. My throat felt as though I hadn't had a drink in days. This discovery was as worrying as the flowers and frogs. I couldn't have been incapacitated long enough to generate get-well gifts, could I?

Abandoning this train of thought at the station, I stood up and made my way to a small mirror in the very corner of the cubicle, in order to discover what on earth these heavy appendages were.

"Dear Merlin!" I cried. Right there, shooting up from either side of my spine were two huge, feathery, white wings. I suddenly felt very faint.

Madam Pomfrey came rushing in, alerted by my cry.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy!" she said, "You're still very fragile!"

"What happened?" I asked as I sat back down on the bed.

"I'm afraid I don't exactly know, dear, but Professor Dumbledore will be down shortly to explain it all to you."

I nodded. I was unsatisfied, but understood.

"Are these real?" I pointed to the wings.

"They are indeed Mr. Malfoy." She said smiling.

"Well then how do I get them off?"

She chuckled lightly;

"All in good time, Mr. Malfoy. For now, I think it'd be best if you got some rest, and I can go tell professor Dumbledore you've woken up."

Madam Pomfrey made to leave, but just as she was about to close my curtain, I remembered one last important question.

"How long have I been here, Professor?"

"About a week, dear." She said as she left my cubicle.

HPOV:

I was kicking pebbles moodily into the black lake. There was depressingly overcast, and it was drizzling half-heartedly. I was tired of hanging around with Ron and Hermione at the moment. Inside, where it was cozy, warm and dry, they were obsessing over Malfoy and his stupid wings. Hermione was bogged down in books, trying to figure out what hadd happened, and desperately trying to add to her wealth of knowledge. Ron was fussing just as much, although without the books and a lot more cuss words. He was convinced that the git was plotting something, which was suspiciously reminiscent of me last year. I sighed. I had given up on suspecting Malfoy ever since he had dropped his wand that fateful night at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Ron and Hermione hadn't been there and witnessed it for themselves, but even though Malfoy was still an obnoxious git, that kind of courage was nothing to sniff at. Also, the sheer volume of information he then revealed to the Order was enough to ensure Victory for the light side. Understandably, many Death Eaters had escaped, one of which was Malfoy's own father, who, on the night of Voldemort's demise, swore revenge on his 'traitorous' son. Draco was now in a considerable amount of danger, even though the war was over. But, even though Ron, Hermoine, myself and the rest of the Order had pleged to protect him, Ron still had not let go of the animosity between them. Then again, it didn't seem as if Malfoy had either. After Voldemort's death, he had reverted back to the snarky, sarcastic and arrogant attitude he always had, albeit he stopped calling Hermione a mudblood and Ron a blood traitor. But only those terms mind you.

And now these wings, just how weird could you get?

Hermione was convinced it had something to do with that damn 'kiss'. If you could call it a kiss. I sat down grumpily on a boulder and began throwing the pebbles in, instead of kicking them.

I had tripped for God's Sake! I just happened to have the misfortune of falling forward into Malfoy. It was an accident!

But even if the kiss was nothing, the chaos afterwards sure was something. After Malfoy shattered the window panes with his screeches, and grown floor-length angel-wings,(ironic really, considering his character), the eniter hall went nuts. There was some sort of magic pulse that swept through the hall and blanketed us in an impervious-like spell. I threw it off, of course,but the rest of the hall could not, and so they went strainght for him, trying to grab ahold of him and _kiss_ him. Honestly. There was nothing for it, I had to defend him. I don't know, maybe it was my savior gene playing up or something, but I ended up with him his bleeding form in a bubble of protego, shouting expelliarmuses and even a few stunners to quell the flow of love-struck witches and wizards.

Eventually, (because it seemed the teachers were under the spell too, if Proffesor Flitwick's expression was anything to go by) the teachers returned and helped me escape

with Malfoy to the Hospital wing.

Half an hour later, professor Dumbledore quizzed Hermione, Ron and I, then we went back to lunch once the furor had died down.

I straigtened, fed up with the cold. Dumbledore had requested my prescence when Malfoy awoke, and I had a strange feeling, a very tangible sort of feeling in fact,(which I had neglected telling Ron and Hermione), that told me that it would be soon.

I took one last look at the sodden scenery, sighed heavily at all of the weirdness,(which mixed my breath with the mist coming off the lake), and made for the castle.

DPOV:

I was fluttering my wings experimentally when Professor Dumbledore arrived unnnonced. His blue eyes twinkled as merrily as ever, even though the last time we had been properly alone was up on the Astronomy Tower, and even then I found out that Potter had been there all along, under an invisibility cloak.

"Professor." I said in the way of a greeting."

"Hello there, Draco," he replied, getting comfortable on the foot of my bed, "I'm sure there's a lot youd like to know."

I looked into the eyes of the man who I was once ordered to kill.

"Yes Sir," I said. My words were loud in the small room,and they echoed forlornly in their ambiguity, "There is."

He smiled.

"It is in amazement that I am to inform you, Mr Malfoy," he said, "that you, are a Veela."


	3. Finding My Wings: Dungeons and Dragons

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This chapter is rated PG-13, and PG-16 if you're sensitive. (Remember this fic has a blanket rating of M)

**To all my readers: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY!!! T^T**

I know excuses don't change anything, but for what it's worth, I got caught up in exams, then my muse went on holiday, then _I_ went on holiday(to Cape Town!XD Woot-Woot!), and then when I came back my computer was dead!( Shock face!). Aaand then I got a laptop for christmas!(JOY ^_^) and then new years came(and then the hangover came)…so that's why I haven't updated in so long…I'M SOWI X(. But if it's any consolation, I've just spent the whole day solidly typing to assuage the guilt…(ehehe…)

Well, enjoy! And don't forget to review!

Chapter Two: Dungeons and Dragons

Two men in dark robes strode through the dripping underground chamber corridor.

" I don't know about this, Arty…" the one with brown hair said.

The other- with cropped red hair- said nothing.

"I mean, come on, " the brown-haired man, Ernie, said, " this guy's real creepy…just look at this place!"

The man gestured wildly about the chamber they walked through.

It's dinginess and decrepitude was shown not only by the slimy walls and ominous looking chains that hung from them, but seemed to seep directly from the ancient yellow stones from which it was built. The sensation trickled through the cracks, alongside the green fungi, and swirled past the barred windows(if you could call the small semi-circular slits windows) and threatened to intrude past the thick collars of the two men.

"And you haven't even seen the prisoners yet…"the man named Arty mumbled quietly.

Ernie froze.

"Wot?"

"Get moving, fool, we're not to be late."

Ernie staggered forwards.

"This man is like the dark lord, he is…"

"I am, am I?"

The two men spun around at the softly spoken words. Behind them, standing tall, was a man so finely beautiful that his very skin seemed to give off an ethereal glow. Long platinum hair fell to his waist, and the hood of a great black cloak obscured his eyes. The long folds of said cloak billowed in the stagnant air, giving the impression of some menacing bird's presence dominating the narrow space.

"Master!" they exclaimed.

"I should take that take that as a compliment." he said, sinister amusement in voice.

The man stepped slowly closer to the two men, the heels of his boots echoing in the silence. There was a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Rivers."

Ernie blinked in surprise at being addressed by that silken voice.

"Y-yes, master?"

'"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Ernie's eyes shone green for a moment, before he slumped to the floor, dead.

Arty stared in shocked silence while dust motes settled on the cooling body. He looked up to his master questioningly.

"A liability." Was all he got as an answer.

The murderer stepped round the body and continued in the direction that Arthur and Ernie were heading in not 3 minutes ago. After a beat, Arthur tore his gaze away and followed.

"You will get him disposed of."

"Yes, Master."

DPOV

Right now, someone, somewhere is laughing at me. Really. This must be some sort of great Cosmic Joke, like a dare played out between the fates, who are probably standing around the fragile thread that is my life and cackling uproariously at just how much they can make me suffer. I wonder, will they laugh when it snaps?

The walls wobbled and they tipped me into Dumbledore's stupid conjured chair. My enormous wings (Veela wings, were they?) jolted painfully against the back of the chintz, an all-too-painful reminder that this was not some sort of twisted nightmare, but living testimony to the fact that my life was a living hell.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?"

The concerned voice of Dumbledore pierced through my haze of disbelieving melancholy, further proof of my situation. I dropped my elbows to my knees and buried my head in my hands.

"Fine, Professor." I said, trying to keep back the biting sarcasm. If Dumbledore noticed he didn't show it.

"We have much to talk about." He said. I could feel my head start to ache at the very idea of this.

"Yes, sir."

I swallowed as Dumbledore began speaking, trying to blot it all out and retain the information at the same time.

HPOV

It was not a warm welcome I received when I entered Draco Malfoy's cubicle.

"Professor?" I called through the linen.

The call of 'Come in, Harry.' was drowned out by the unmistakable sarcastic Malfoy drawl of;

"Oh, Potter's in this as well? It just keeps getting better and better!"

I pushed open the curtain and sat down in a conjured chair Dumbledore(who was monopolizing the space on the hospital bed) motioned to.

Draco was seated in a similar chair across from me, his head in his hands. His wings were gone, I was relieved to see, but I was acutely aware of the fact that his entire upper body was exposed, and seemed to be glistening. Completely horrified at myself for even noticing, I looked away quickly.

"What did you need me for, professor?" I asked.

"Harry, this seems to be the most unexpected turn of events, but, my dear boy, we also seem to have the most unexpected stroke of luck too..."

"Oh?" I glanced at Draco in the hope I'd glean some grain of information, but he had not moved from where his hate-filled gaze bored a hole into the floor.

Dumbledore leaned forward and, almost conspiratorially said;

"I'd like to suggest something that may just help get our young veela here through the year…"

Author's Note:  Hehe… Hope it was worth the wait guys! Aaand, just 'cuz I love you for Reviewing RIGHT NOW…(Catch the hint…) I'm going to give you a challenge! The First person to get it right will win a special something…(wink wink).(Send your answer with your review…:D)

**So, here it is: In Draco's point of view in this chapter, what line does he think to himself that foreshadows future emotional events?**

(Hint: It's hinted at a lot, but is summed up in one line)

(Further Hint: It's before he says: "Fine Professor.")

(EXTRA BONUS: If you can guess the exact line and not just the idea, you will get an extra special something! ^_^) ENJOY MY LOVLIES!


	4. Finding my Wings: Tempers and Talk

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This chapter is rated All- there isn't even swearing!(Remember though, this fic has a blanket rating of M)

**WELL DONE SIX FOOT TALL GIANT! **You are the winner of the Challenge!!! As your prize, I have **written you into the story**!!!!!!!! Go read and see where!

Lots of love to all my amazing reviewers!(Thank you- it's as welcome as water to the desert…)

Anyway, on with the show!

Chapter Three: Tempers and Talk

DPOV

"No!" My cry bounced around me as I stalked quickly from the hospital wing.

"Dammit Malfoy!" Potter, hot on my heels, called after me.

"I refuse! I point blank_ refuse_!"

"Malfoy! What the _Hell_ is your problem?"

I stopped abruptly and turned to face him, my leather shoes squeaking at the speed.

"My _problem_, Potter, as you so crudely put it," I hissed, " is that I am a_ veela_."

Potter looked at me nonplussed for a couple of seconds.

"Malfoy, that's exactly why-"

"And," I loudly interrupted him, " In _addition_ to making the entire student body of slobbering Neanderthals lust after my very bones, it seems to make the _lucky few_ who aren't subject to my charms forget that I am a wizard!"

"This is for your own protection!"

"Don't you dare patronize me, Potter," I seethed, "I am not some helpless_ pet_, I can bloody well take care of myself!"

"But you heard what Dumbledore said!"

"I will not be toyed with by Dumbledore just so you can play the hero."

My angry huffs echoed in the silent corridor.

I could see the anger cloud over his eyes dangerously. He brought himself up to his full height, and a couple of red sparks shot from the tip of his wand, which was clenched in a white-knuckled fist. An angry Harry Potter was a breathtaking sight to behold.

"Is that so, Malfoy?" He asked, venom in every word.

I tilted my chin up in arrogant assent, trying not to let on to how intimidated I was.

"Well then," Potter replied to my silent yes, "go and get your sorry self raped, only don't expect me to be the one to come rushing in to save you."

We glared at each other for a little bit longer, then stalked off in opposite directions; him to his Dorm, and me to the new, private room Dumbledore had assigned me.

A couple of meters around a corner, I ground inelegantly into the wall. _Oh, Merlin_, I thought. _Potter's getting to me_. The mere thought of it made me slam a fist against the wall. There was another, more personal problem than I hadn't let on to. But no, the more I thought about it, the longer it was going to take to disappear. I stood up and physically shook myself from my funk. _Stop this idiocy, Draco_. I told myself.

I found the statue of a sleeping dragon; Dumbledore had called it a giant, but it was only about six feet tall. I stroked behind it's left wing three times. It blinked it's stone eyelids over it' stone eyes and twitched under my fingertips. It stared at me balefully and I stared back. It flicked it's forked tongue out and seemed to motion to the left with it's head. It's tail had curved into an arch on the wall, where there now appeared a doorknob. I opened the door and stepped into my new abode.

HPOV

"That arrogant git!" I cried, throwing myself into a couch beside the common room fire.

"Harry!" Hermione chided as a couple of first-years scurried from the room.

"Oi, mate," said Ron, " What's the matter?"

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" asked Hermione.

I nodded and gave both of them 'the look' which meant that there was a whole lot of stuff I needed to tell them. Once we were all crowded around the fire, I began to recount what Dumbledore had told me.

Draco was part Veela. Excluding myself and Dumbledore- the only ones at Hogwarts who could successfully shake the Imperious curse- He would be magnetically attractive to everyone, albeit now that he had come into his inheritance, the power of his attraction would lessen. Also, Draco was now in search of his mate-for-life, whom without, he would die.

The wings could be grown and retracted at will, (back in the hospital wing, this had led to some very disturbing demonstrations), and Snape would be brewing up some potions for the staff- just in case their self-restraint fell short.

"Blimey…" said Ron weakly.

I nodded.

"It's all one big cock-up."

"And Harry," Hermione began, " What about the fight?"

"Oh, right," I cleared my throat, "Well, you see, Dumbledore suggested that I, well, guard Malfoy- seeing as I'm the only student who won't be attracted to him, and can protect him and all."

Hermione and Ron gaped in shock.

"Bet the ferret didn't like that one bit." Said Ron.

"I didn't either, as a matter of fact, " I said.

"So?" how's this going to work Harry? Is he going to tag along with us, or you with him?"

"Neither," I said smugly, leaning back against the chair. "Malfoy had a hissy fit and refused to be looked after."

"That's great, " Ron said, " babysitting Malfoy is not how I intend to spend my afternoons."

"Do you think he'll manage?" Hermione asked.

"If he says he can take care of himself, he can take care of himself, 'Mione." I replied.

"Besides, I'm not sure Malfoy would fancy me making his wellbeing my priority."

"Hmm." My two friends agreed.

"Well," Hermione breathed, " this is certainly going to be one interesting week."

Authors Note: Review, review, review!!! Please, please, please!!!!!! I can't improve it without you!!!!


	5. Finding My Wings: Dreaming and Screaming

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This chapter is rated PG-16 for I suppose ambiguity…or so…;D

Anyway, sorry for the delay, I actually had this chapter finished a week after posting the previos one, but there was a gas-leak explosion a couple blocks down which knocked down the phone lines and the internet with it…very sad… BUT IT'S OKAY!

Hope you enjoy this chapter, I feel I'm finally reached the meat of the story, not just boring background stuff…^_^ Review and you will have good Karma forever!!!!!!!!!!!

DPOV

It was hot, so hot. There was heat all around me, trapping me, setting my heart pounding and my brain into a clouded panic. There was flesh, then chafing cloth, then flesh again; I was choking on my own cries of pain and I couldn't see for my tears_. Not this! Please, Please, no!_ I wasn't sure what I wanted, but all I knew was that it wasn't this.

I woke in a cold sweat, a scream for help on my lips.

I sat up, shivering, the cool white sheets of my four-poster a tangled heap by my feet. I needed a shower.

I was grateful for this new, private room; I could do away with the countless silencing charms I did before bed, and awkward explanations for my many midnight showering expeditions.

Soon, I had deliciously hot water pelting down onto my back. I stood and let the spray course over me, willing it to scald the nightmare from my skin and wash it into dark oblivion beneath the drain. My eyes squeezed tightly shut in anguish. It was no use-it never was- the thoughts clawed at me like the awful pain from my memory.

I slid numbly to the shower floor. The freezing shock of my bare back on the tile wall made me aware of the fierce temperature of the shower. Perhaps the burning on my skin could overwhelm the burning I felt inside.

Tears forced themselves down my cheeks. I was a wreck, a total wreck. I was shaking and gasping and sobbing. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pull myself together. I hiccupped in a breath, but rather than steadying me, it prompted a new wave of sobs.

I was as weak as my father always said I was. Before I had already been struggling, but now that I had found out that I was a veela, the more I dreaded living. Half Veelas were not treated with the same reverie as their more pure ancestors, at least not in the society I was raised. I would be treated like the worthless animal bastard I always knew myself to be.

I was a worthless excuse for a person- not even a wizard, just some disgusting mutation- too weak to avoid the teenagers who had been assaulting me over the past few days.

Tormented; I wished the pain away, I wanted out, wished for relief. If only I could fade away right here under the soothing splash of water. I curled up into a ball and, for the millionth time, I thought to myself;

_I wish I would die._

HPOV

"No more chocolate?"

"That's seriously what you said, mate." Ron assured me as we sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

I tried looking nonchalantly amused- in case I gave away the fact that I actually did remember what I was dreaming when I said that innocuous phrase 'no more chocolate'.

As the conversation progressed, I found my mind returning again and again to my dreams of the past week.

They were not like my usual fantasies; this had been far more…intense…and, strangely enough, what niggled at the tips of my memory _was_ the chocolate that had, uh, insinuated itself in, the, uh… dream. As did my companion…although the memory of their face was not as clear as the feeling of their, ahem, ministrations.

Sighing, I flicked my gaze over the crowd of witches and wizards; I couldn't help but linger at the Slytherin table, where newborn Veela, Draco Malfoy sat, hexing away amorous teens- a week after he had adamantly refused to accept my help as a guardian. He nearly toppled over backwards, most ungracefully, when a fresh wave of teens struck. He could have just cast a bubble-repel charm, but I certainly wasn't going to say anything- he didn't want my help, after all.

Hermione arrived and my attention was diverted.

"Get away from my chocolate, you beast!" All eyes turned to watch Draco Malfoy unleash his fury on some poor Hufflepuff who had tried to steal a spoonful of his chocolate dessert in some mangled attempt to woo him. A couple of jeers and laughs bounced around, but the Slytherins steered well clear of the chocolate receptacle.

"Malfoy's absolutely mental about chocolate…" someone close by muttered.

With those words my world lurched, I felt all my blood drain from my face and the shock hit me like a train to my chest.

The Chocolate from my dream, the mysterious somebody who shimmered on the borders of my subconcios…It couldn't be that I had been dreaming about _Draco Malfoy_, could it?

Malfoy… It was Draco I had been thinking of, who I had been trying to remember all along, a sensual shadow touching, kissing, _sucking…_

I remembered his hair beneath my clenched hand, his eyes glinting in the dark, his self-satisfied smirk…

The arousal hit as hard and as fast as the panic- were his veela charms suddenly affecting me? How? Since when? What in Merlin's name was I going to do?

Author's Note: What do you think about the direction I'm pushing Draco to??? Love to know how you like your characters…(medium rare or well done? ;D)


	6. Finding My Wings: Windows and Whimsy

Finding My Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This Chapter is rated PG-13 for mild language and teenager-y themes :D.(Nothing too juicy yet guys…^_^)

Sorry that my Update pace has slowed dramatically, darling readers, but I'm on holiday now, so hopefully whatever thirst you have for this fic will be assuaged. Yay!

Okay! On with the show…

Chapter Six: Windows and Whimsy

HPOV

Frozen in place I sat by Gryffindor's common room fire, my fingertips and toes losing feeling . So far, the temperature was the only thing registering.

I needed to think more than anything, and it was the one thing I seemed unable to do. The whole of yesterday evening, the whole of last night, I had sat here with the intention of getting to the bottom of my unexpected conundrum. To no avail. I just couldn't crack it.

I managed to get to visualizing Draco Malfoy's name. And then his shiny hair. His nose, lips, high cheekbones. His eyes boring into me with a gaze that made my breath catch. His white, English, skin, the black uniform, the green tie. A sudden disappearance of his cloak and his fingers sliding the knot down and slipping his shirt buttons one by one, exposing inch by slow inch…

"Harry?"

I started suddenly "'Mione?"

"Wake up, Harry, have you been here all night?"

I awoke slowly, registering the bright sunlight filtering through the windows.

"Nah, I got up a little while ago, must've fallen asleep here." I lied.

"You better get yourself going," She said as she settled in to a wingback with a heavy book across her lap, "Dumbledore sent for you."

"Oh, wow, what's up?" I said as I sank into the chair next to her.

She shook her head, but proffered the parchment with the password on it,

"No Idea."

"Thanks" I stood up to leave for my dorm. On my way out, Hermione, still ensconced by the fire, held a chocolate frog out behind her.

"For you Harry, You need to eat more." She said without looking up.

I grinned. "Thanks 'Mione."

I hurried from the room, wolfing the frog down as I went.

…

Professor Dumbledore's office always felt like a different world; a different timeframe. The wooden surfaces tinted golden with mote-filed light that streamed from tall gothic windows smelt, as well as felt, like a trip into the headmaster's own whimsy.

Today I thought I was caught up in one of my own whimsy's; right there on the red velvet chaise lounge, lounging like he owned the place, was Draco sodding Malfoy. I really needed to catch up on my sleep.

"Ah, Harry," The headmaster's voice came from the semi-circular book-lined alcove that was his desk space.

" Sit, we three have much to talk about." He motioned over to my apparent hallucination of Malfoy.

So he wasn't my imagination, great, what good could possibly come from a situation with us both thrown in?

I drew up a chair and threw an absent nod in Malfoy's direction in way of a greeting. He responded in kind.

"What did you need to discuss professor?" I asked.

"Harry, he began. " I am terribly sorry to inform you that, once again, there is trouble afoot."

My expression hardened, I could feel my skin almost bubbling, as if affected by some imaginary polyjuice potion, I could feel myself slipping once again into my well-worn armor from War time. "Like always Harry, you happen to stand right in the very eye of the storm to come."

My eyes closed and frowning, I asked the headmaster what exactly posed a threat to the light this time, and what I had to do to stop it.

"Relax Potter, no one's storming into battle again." Draco's speedy comment jerked me out of the sudden battle mode.

"Mr. Malfoy is right, Harry, you are at the eye, but you are not the eye itself."

"What is?"

"I am, apparently." Drawled Draco.

DPOV

Harry Potter entered the headmaster's room with an ease that almost annoyed me- even as I reclined on a chaise as though in my mother's own kitchen. Oh well, he was in here often enough.

The headmaster addressed him from behind a toppling tower of tomes. Potter seemed only then to realize my existence, and motioned to it with a nod, which I reciprocated with. If the arrogant boy-wonder would deign to greet me in words, I would hardly afford as much effort to him.

Dumbledore painted an elaborate picture of our meeting's reason and I watched as Golden boy lost his glimmer, eyes darkening, his mood turning hard and black.

I dismissed his melodrama.

But, even so... Potter's eyes were earnest, transparent. The extent of the hurt he had suffered, cheesy as that sounded to my own ears, I understood. He didn't deserve it.

I suppose it was my realization that we were both victims of circumstance that helped me switch sides. Wonder boy, I hated to admit to my vanity, was the stronger man. He was a Gryffindor, I was a Slytherin. Under pressures of much the same kind, his character barely buckled. Mine broke.

In his fierce look now, I could plainly see the weight of the responsibility he had carried in war-time and carried still.

Wow, I thought to myself, I didn't know I cared.

"So, Professor," Potter asked, " A murder, a robbery and a mysterious magical vibe are somehow connected to Malfoy?"

"Indeed, my boy." Dumbledore answered. Harry remained nonplussed.

"Potter, " I said," The items stolen have been obscure 'ingredients' from the Department of Mysteries, a first born baby has been murdered in some sort of dark ritual, and my father's own magical signature is all over them both. He's planning something."

"Oh."

"Yes oh, Mr. Potter," the Professor chuckled, " which brings us to the crux of the matter."

" Draco may be at risk, and, as much as I trust in my protective charms over the school, I would much rather be safe than sorry, especially since young Mr. Malfoy here has not yet located his mate."

Comprehension dawned on Potter face. His pale look was much like my own when I had heard. I grinned in spite of myself.

"That's right Potter, I said with chagrin, "We're roommates."

His eyes closed and he held a completely expressionless look;

"Oh fuck, that's just great."

…...

Yay! Harry and Draco in the same dorm!(dances)

Cliché, yes, but oh what a handy plot tool… :D

REVIEW AND MAGIC SHALL DECSEND ON YOUR HEAD!


	7. Finding my Wings: Claws and Cursing

Finding my Wings

Tzee

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form, sadly. No profits are being made from this either, again sadly.

This chapter is rated PG-16 for… descriptions…

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE SIX-MONTH DELAY. SO SORRY! I AM SO ASHAMED!

The dog ate the internet! I Swear!

Lots of love to my faithful readers, thanks for waiting.

A special thank you to MEMEMEX3 aka PEGGY. Your review guilt-tripped me into posting. ^_^

Chapter Six: Claws and Cursing

The steam from the cauldron rose in thick round puffs to the ceiling of the cramped workroom, tinged a sulphurous green. The blond man hovered close by, an old tome of book in his hands, occasionally giving the cauldron a stir or two. After a while, he straightened satisfactorily, put the book down and left the room, casting a long incantation as he went.

In a long winding tunnel a long way below the blond man's feet, a young woman in rags stared unseeingly at the bars of her cell. Her baby had been murdered right in front of her eyes not more than three days ago; his tiny screaming body had been bled into a tarnished silver goblet by a death eater.

She passed out from screaming long before the breath left her baby's delicate body.

It was in this cell she had awoke, pleading for death and refusing food and drink, spitting in her jailers faces when they had tried to force it down. Why they were keeping her alive was beyond her.

Suddenly there were footsteps; heavy, metallic boots echoed on a staircase; the man who came to feed her. She didn't like him.

"'Ello, sweetheart…"

No, she didn't like him one bit.

…..

It was after supper, and I was amazed he wasn't throwing another hissy fit, I thought as we walked towards the hidden quarters I had just learnt we were to share.

After Dumbledore had dropped the bomb-like information on my head, he had informed Draco to show me to 'our room' (mental shudder) after dinner.

Before I could buck up the courage to go over to the Slytherin table and ask Malfoy, in full earshot of his friends, to lead the way to our(Kill me now!)private room, he had stood up and strode out of the great hall.

I had followed indignantly, and found the arrogant git lounging against a pillar just outside the doors.

"Come on Potter." He said in the way of greeting and instruction.

I grumbled a reply and decided not to quarrel with his rudeness right now; I was tired.

So now we were walking. I trailed behind him, feeling the atmosphere grow more and more tense as the silent seconds slid by.

My eyes were roving. There was nothing really interesting to look at; the walls were the same walls as always, the paintings, suits of armor, the odd ghost- all remained unchanged. Save Malfoy, of course.

The Bloody Slytherin git had to go and change into the most beautiful creature this side of England. Sick irony really. Although he had always been beautiful, and this made me hate him even more. No! I can't think that way! Malfoy was only vaguely attractive because…uh… because he looked like a girl! Yes, that's why. My gaze stayed fixed on his back, dark and glaring.

"Honestly Potter, will you stop checking me out?"

I froze. Holyshitholyshitholyshit.

"Fuck off Malfoy, don't put such repulsive ideas into my head." I threw back venomously.

"Christ, Potter, it was a joke. Believe me when I say no-one could be more repulsed by that thought than me."

"Yeah whatever. Just keep your twisted fantasies to yourself okay?"

Malfoy sniffed condescendingly and turned back around.

I forcibly wrenched my glare from his back to stare instead at the floor. Fucking Malfoy.

DPOV:

Honestly, sharing rooms? This was so incredibly unreal. All of it.

Potter was looking at me(glaring, to be precise) and snapping at him made me feel worlds better.

We reached the six-foot-tall-giant dragon statue( he had informed me his name was Mitchell), and Potter observed closely how I opened the doorway.

In the little chamber, another bed had appeared, with Potter's trunk at its foot, as well as another desk. Potter immediately flopped into an armchair by the fire and continued his mutinous glaring.

I hesitated awkwardly at the door for a fraction of a second, then remembered myself and strode haughtily to the bathrooms, grabbing the fluffier towel from the neatly stacked cupboard. I needed some time to think of some excuse to feed to Potter about why I would be suffocating my bed with silencing charms.

I turned on the spray but didn't undress. I was unable to move, in a state of ennui, in a dwaal. The cold of the porcelain toilet seat seeped through my pants. I wonder what Potter would say if he knew he was living in close quarters with a faggot.

I inspected my fingers absently. Since my transformation, I'd noticed small changes; like the colour of my skin, the hardness or my toenails and the sharpness of my fingernails, which were becoming more and more like bird-like talons.

I touched the tip of one nail, nicked it across the skin of my hand. To my surprise, it drew blood. Fascinated, I nicked my hand again, and watched a tiny line of red appear.

I shook myself and stepped under the water. I washed my hair and body, but I was not focused on the momentary pleasure of the hot water. Every movement of my hands, of my newly sharp nails, was heightened. I was strangely aware of every scrub and scrape. Finally unable to ignore the pounding question in my mind, I readied my hand for another scratch. It hovered first over My hand, then my forearm. I thought for a second, then flipped my arm around to expose the tender unblemished skin of my wrist.

At first I was nervous. No blood swelled to the surface, but angry welts swelled up instead. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and extended my talon and waiting wrist out in front of me; tentative and a little bit scared.

The though flashed into my mind about how cowardly I was being. Too scared to scratch your perfect skin, Malfoy? I snarled to myself. In anger I unfurled all four of my fingers, and, hot with rage, I slashed them across my arm. It made me gasp just a little, but I grew stern and ripped them across my arm again, in punishment for the little sound of weakness.

For the next couple of minutes I just stood there, staring at the bleeding gashes where the hot ache radiated from my arm.

HPOV:

I will not think about Draco Malfoy naked next door. I will not think about Draco Malfoy naked next door. I will not think about Draco Malfoy naked next door.

Fuck! This wasn't working.

I glanced over to the closed bathroom door, was there enough time for a wank?

Merlin's balls, was I actually considering wanking over sodding Draco Malfoy? Oh Christ I just thought _sodding _Draco Malfoy! I jumped to my feet.

No, Harry! You are a teenager yes, but you don't have to think about sex all the time, think something intelligent…

Right. Intelligent. Intelligent.

The bathroom door opened. Draco Malfoy stepped out the shower, all warm and moist in his pajamas. Mmm.

"Merlin, Malfoy, you took so long in there I thought you'd died."

Malfoy looked at me with an oddly secretive smirk playing softly at the corners of his mouth.

"Not quite, Potter, sorry to disappoint."

Author's Note: Review! Please please please! Draco will dance a strip tease for you!


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